I was subdued, my surrondings were maligned. The opportunities limited, the confidence diminished. They said it gets better with time, they said it’s all part of learning to live; it wasn’t all wrong, the picture painted was discrete. The beauty dominated when we peaked; the mud was left behind and the sun was shining on my skin. I am the pride of our pond; but what will be be my identity outisde this woodland small? Every night the longing to leave grows, the thought is scary and it makes me want to go far. The excitement of knowing the unknown is strong; to follow the stars to the end of the world, to know if the world even ever ends? Life is satisfactory, I have no qualms. But is happiness the same as satisfaction or happiness is something that you define for who you are?